Sandseas and Flame Filled Skies
by SunshineSong
Summary: Ties now severed from the Navy, former Naval Captain Maka Albarn is separated from the Pirates she inadvertently befriended during her adventures of the past year. 7 months after her resignation, she receives a letter from one of her now scattered friends. Now she must embark on a new journey alone, into the Farlands. In search of what she lost as a child. AU! MXS. Sequel to HSGS.
1. Prologue

**Hello all my lovely followers! :3**

**Here I have for you a very special treat. I decided I could not wait to post the second part to High Seas Golden Skies. Well that and I've got a major case of writers block for Infection T.T **

**I am really excited and anxious about posting this. I hope you enjoy where I'm going with this and it meets everyone's expectations. **

**This is just a taste of what's to come. ^^ Look forward to new faces! **

**Without further adieu, I give you, **

**PART TWO: Sandseas and Flame ****Filled Skies**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SOUL EATER**

* * *

_Prologue_

The Pirate Captain was seated in a dingy little hole in the wall of a café, halfway across the world. The scent of alcohol and sweat wafted around him as he sipped on his drink carefully, half-lidded eyes observing the room casually. He was waiting for something, something important that would be arriving shortly.

He flipped through the daily news sheets lightly, listening to the inane chatter of the other patrons. They were speaking in another language, one he still had not entirely grasped but could make out the most of it. His own ability for the tongue was limited, coming out broken and clearly foreign most of the time, but it didn't matter to him really. That was what his translator was for.

She was a timid girl with dark, shoulder length hair and big grey-blue eyes. Slightly underdeveloped and on the petite side she could practically disappear if she wanted to, especially with her shy tendencies. She was eager to please though and Soul had hired her as in addition to being an excellent and diplomatic translator she spoke his own language perfectly. She wasn't from the Farlands either despite living there most of her life.

Why have a translator when he understood most of the language one might ask? Why not just improve his skills? He liked the edge it gave him. People would assume he didn't understand them and would often slip up with information, assuming his timid translator wouldn't relay everything. He'd saved himself a lot of money making deals in the market that way, and shocked a fair amount of people trying to insult him slyly in their own tongue.

He ran a hand through his snowy locks and turned his gaze to the door. Subtly, he leaned back in his chair, closer to a pair of conversing traders. They were complaining about some new tax that had been put into place. They only held his interest momentarily, the tax didn't effect him, what kind of Pirate pays taxes?

His interest was peaked again by another conversation, the two speaking didn't make much sense to him. It took him a moment to realize they were speaking in code. Referring to a drug den nearby.

He sighed and sat forward again, his chair scraping on the dirty floor as he righted himself. It was all the same here, drugs and slaves. They ran this city and he was growing tired of it. He missed home, missed Dark Port, and though he was loathe to admit it he missed an infuriating Naval Captain he was ever regretting leaving behind.

She was on his mind often. Especially with his knowledge of her potentially being under attack. Though he supposed she was a very capable woman and could generally take care of herself.

The crew had taken some time to adjust but they seemed much happier now that they had been in the Farlands for a few months. The majority of them could speak the common tongue now and were happy enough to gamble, whore and drink themselves silly when they weighed anchor in one of the many port towns that peppered the coast line.

One of the nice things about the Farlands was the lack of any real government to reign their piracy in. They had taken more ships in these past months than they had in double the amount of time back in more familiar waters.

Some of the crew was not entirely happy here, Tsubaki, the former Naval Doctor being one. She couldn't stand the slavery and injustice that often went on around them and was too sensitive to let it go. Black Star was surprisingly successful at distracting her though, steering her towards the magic districts with all their dazzling tricks and glamour.

The majority managed well enough, regardless of what went around them. They let things slip by them and focused on what they enjoyed about the place. They made the best out of their situation, lying low and away from home while things quieted down.

Here the Navy couldn't touch them.

But here he thought about the Navy often. A specific person to be more truthful. He had been getting word about Grigori from different sources. Merchants that had come from there. He'd even paid a few to make sure they asked about her specifically while there so when he spoke to them they could give him the most accurate information about her situation as possible.

When he'd heard she resigned from the Navy a part of him had hoped she might try to contact him and he had been sorely tempted on several occasions to do the same. But he tried to separate himself from it and quietly watch on her situation from afar.

No thrilling or terrible news had come really. Just that she was still in Grigori and still no longer with the Navy. She was alive and well as far as he gathered from the bits of information he gathered.

And this was why he was currently sitting in this dive of a café by himself. He was waiting on a merchant he had hired to gather for him. They had sailed to the Western lands and back over the last few months and should have information for him at this time in regards to her.

He wasn't expecting anything important really, just confirmation that she lived and wasn't in any kind of trouble.

The front door opened, a bell hanging above it jangled a little announcing to the café the arrival of a new customer.

The man was dressed in the common breezy clothing of the Farlands. Long, light robes and loose, thin wore a cloth wrapped about his head and drawn across his face to avoid all the sand that blew through the streets and often coated the city. Only his eyes were visible. Brown eyes with a friendly gleam.

Soul recognized him as his informant. He did not wave him down though, only waited for the merchant to pick him out and then manoeuvre his way between all the tables to where Soul sat.

He slid into the chair across from him and unwound the cloth from the lower half of his face. The normal pleasant look he had, had gone sombre upon meeting the Pirate Captain's gaze.

"I come bearing the information you seek." He said in a soft tone, he was practiced at speaking in such a way that made it difficult for strangers to eavesdrop.

"You had an easy trip I hope?"

"As easy as crossing the straits can be," he murmured. There was a long pause between them, the merchant played with his moustache nervously.

"What news?" Soul asked softly. That sombre, sad look had reappeared, masking the nervousness the man had been throwing off in waves.

"The news I bear is not what you truly desire Captain Soul Eater. I do not bear glad tidings as I wish I did." His heart jumped into his throat, beating quickly. He didn't speak though, he only waited for the man to continue. "When I went to the small town of Grigori it was during a time of mourning…I arrived in time for a funeral." He took a breath. "A funeral, for the one you were asking about. She was killed.'

His expression went blank. His fists clenched, knuckles going white. His teeth ground together for a moment before he managed to get out a single word. "How?" He was struggling to maintain control. Struggling not to lose his mind and throw tables.

The man sighed heavily, his gaze pitying. "They were calling it an accident. Something wasn't right about it though. I'm a pretty intuitive individual and there was something hidden beneath the surface there." He fiddled with his sleeve. There was something deadly about the calm façade the Pirate Captain was maintaining. "There was a fire, on a fishing boat. They are saying she drowned."

Soul's brow furrowed. "Impossible, she swam so well she was basically part fish."

"Perhaps the fire was her undoing then? All I know is she no longer with us."

The Pirate Captain was hunched over in his seat, gripping his glass tightly between his hands. His expression was hidden within the shadow he cast across the table. The merchant twitched nervously, unsure what to make of the snow capped pirate.

Abruptly, there was a crash and the tinkling of broken glass. Soul had gripped the glass too tight and it had shattered under the pressure. The merchant began standing up to assist him, chattering in alarm. His hands were bleeding from where the glass had cut into him as it broke.

Mechanically, Soul stood, shaking off the merchant's attempts at assistance. He tossed a handful of coins onto the table, they clattered, one rolling most of its way across only stopping when it bumped into the other man's hand.

Without another word, Soul turned and left the café.

* * *

He wandered through the streets for hours. Using up what was left of the sunlight as he went. The sky grew dark and what little lights there were came to life. He didn't know where he was going, what he was doing. He had no desire to do anything.

At one point during his wanderings he had heard one of his crew members shouting for him. He recognized Kid's voice and then later Liz and Patti's. He could only assume the others were searching somewhere too. That or they weren't aware he was missing yet. He couldn't find it in himself to care though.

His feet carried him for hours, all throughout town and right into one of the less desirable districts of the city.

The district was darker than most, nearly everything here was battered and broken. Including the people. There were very few people around in this part of the city, most of them preferred to be indoors by nightfall to avoid the undesirables that wandered the streets after dark.

It wasn't long before Soul realized the streets were empty. It was only him now. A knocking came from nearby. Perhaps he wasn't going to be alone for long.

A door to his right flew open, spilling light out into the night. A man and woman emerged kissing feverishly. They were not what really grabbed his attention, it was the music. The moment the door had flown open the faint sounds of a smooth jazzy beat had washed out into the streets.

The man and the woman appeared to be intoxicated, though with what Soul wasn't entirely sure. They were falling about in the street giggling hysterically now and again before going back to their feverish kissing. Soul stepped over them, his curiosity drawing him in. He slipped in through the open door.

A staircase lead down to another door. This one not shabby like the one on the outside. Whatever was down there wasn't a grimy as something in the area would be expected to be.

It was a set of double doors at the bottom of the stairwell, heavy and polished. A shining gold nameplate was bolted onto the door. In curling script, _'The Black Room' _was scrawled. Beneath this declaration there was a small engraving in the shape of what Soul could only describe as a demon's head.

He paused, the music was louder here just outside the door. It was clearly coming from within. In addition to the music he could hear chatter of conversation, the clinking of glasses and hysterical laughter. As he contemplated going in, weighing the pros and cons of it. The door opened.

A man appeared, or what he could only assume was a man. The man in question was wearing an elaborate mask. It was painted red and designed with holes for the man's black beady eyes, a wide and gaping mouth full of sharp teeth and a pointed nose. At the top of the mask protruding from the forehead was pair of horns bent outward at the middle on either side. It had an impish quality but still had the ability to intimidate.

Soul was startled at first but then the man with the Demon face chuckled and gestured for the Pirate Captain to come in, in a welcoming sort of way.

"Would you like to come in Misterrr-?" the Little Ogre's voice was muffled behind the mask as it spoke. Drawing the last syllable out in question.

"Soul Eater," he deadpanned in response. The man's black eyes twinkled from within the hollows of the mask.

"Welcome Mister Eater, won't you come in?" he ushered him fully inside. "And might I ask how you heard about our little…establishment?"

The establishment in question was a large room. Fittingly named. It was done in mostly black, with splashes of red as well. The lighting was dark, only a soft glow from the candles that surrounded the room allowed enough light to see by. The floor was chequered, in red and black. Heavy looking, red velvet curtains lined all the walls, drawn together at the corners and tied with golden tasselled ropes. There was a roaring fireplace against the far wall but the flames were a startling blue instead of the regular gold one would expect. Around the fireplace were several cushy looking armchairs and a plush looking sofa, all black. A gramophone set on a small table gave off the jazz he had been hearing, though now that he was in the room he realized it was skipping after every few moments.

The Little Demon didn't seem to mind though, he began doing a strange little dance that didn't even accompany the beat.

Soul realized that they were not the only people in the room, there were a few scattered tables, all black, with patrons seated at them in matching black chairs. They were chatting, drinking, laughing. Something about them was…off, though. Eyes glazed too bright, grins stretched too wide. A strange darkness stained some of their lips and others fingertips.

"I…sort of stumbled on it by mistake. Two of your patrons left the door open," he managed to answer after taking in the room. He noticed people would occasionally stand and push past the curtained walls, disappearing elsewhere. Sometimes alone, sometimes in groups or pairs.

He imagined the Little Demon man frowning behind his mask. "Oh my, well that just won't do it all. Can't have them letting any old riff raff in here. What if you were the authorities?" he chuckled a little. "But how lucky for you to have found this place."

"What exactly, is this place?" A woman slumped across the table suddenly, practically drooling, her eyes blank. A group of what he could only assume were employee's of the place, all wearing different demon masks of their own, scurried out to collect her. They in turn vanished behind one of the curtains.

The Little Demon bowed deeply. "This, is the Black Room. A place where people come to escape. Here they are not subject to the trials and tribulations of the real world. Here they succumb to the soothing abandon of their own…madness." The grin on the mask's face seemed fitting for the man's tone as he spoke.

"A drug den." Soul simplified bluntly. The man chuckled.

"More than a drug den. We hold higher standards than that. We offer-" he paused, searching for the right word. "Enlightenment." He finished in a satisfied tone. "The people who come here are facing a despair or disaster they cannot cope with, or perhaps they are searching for a higher knowledge or power. We offer them a solution. The Black Blood they call it fondly, Madness or Insanity they call it on the streets."

Soul was quiet. His expression still blank.

"Mister Soul Eater, how would you like to forget what ails you, feel more powerful than you ever have before, escape your…reality?"

"How long does it last?" He murmured.

"Only as long as you desire." The Little Demon replied cryptically. He didn't wait for Soul to agree. "I think I have the perfect room for you."

He allowed himself to be led to one of the far walls, the man guided him through a break in the curtains Soul had not seen before. It felt like they were pushing through a velvet tunnel instead of just stepping through a break in the curtains. The fabric was smooth and soft against his arms and face. After a moment he realized the Little Demon was no longer with him, a small spark of alarm filled him and he began to hurry.

He broke through the curtains suddenly, stumbling into a dark circular room. Black all around, seeming to stretch out into nothingness, the only way in or out was the set of red velvet curtains he had come through. The floor was the same chequered pattern of the room he had just left.

The centerpiece of the room drew his eye. A polished, black grand piano with a cushioned black bench placed in front of it. Swirled in patterns around the room were candles with electric blue flames like the fireplace past the curtains. They were all set in silver, twisted holders in varying heights, some as tall as him and some only a foot off the ground.

Soul approached the piano, running his fingertips across its top fondly. He pressed a key lightly, letting its deep note ring out into the room.

A rustling drew his attention away though and he turned. The man in the Demon's mask emerged again from between the curtains. This time followed by two other workers, both in masks as well, who bore a table between them.

They set the table down and placed a silver pitcher of some sort of liquid down as well as a crystal chalice, a bizarre looking contraption he'd never seen before, a small silver piece that looked like a sewing needle and what appeared to be incense and its holder.

Soul seated himself on the piano bench. "How did you know I would like this?" The Little Demon shrugged his shoulders.

"I have a gift for knowing."

"How does this work then?" The two workers vanished through the curtain and Soul's own Little Demon approached the table now.

"It is your choice really. We have a number of methods for enjoying the Black Blood." He gestured to the table. "You can quite simply, drink it, sip it, chug it. Whichever suits your fancy." He gestured to the incense this time. "Or you can inhale it, we simply light the incense and you sit before it and breathe. A favourite with those who dislike the staining the Black Blood can cause. Or if you aren't opposed to a bit of pain you can prick the tips of your fingers and dip them in, the Black Blood is incredibly lively, it soaks into your skin and binds with your blood. And finally, we have this lovely." He gestured to the contraption Soul had never seen before.

"This turns the Black Blood into a vapour. You light the little fire beneath it and it boils the Blood which escapes as steam through this lovely little gap. Then you can inhale it and absorb it through your pores."

"Which is least potent?" Soul asked.

"The incense."

"I'll go with that." The Little Demon sighed as though disappointed. But went about bringing the incense to the piano. He sat it on the piano's lip and turned to glance back at Soul.

"I would assume you'd like to be near to your friend here as you indulge." He tapped the piano lightly. Soul nodded.

A thought occurred to him. "Does this cost anything?" The Demon's eyes sparkled.

"The first indulgence is free." He cooed. Then he promptly struck a match, lit the incense and bowed his way out of the room. His deep chuckle still echoing around long after he left.

Soul twisted himself around so he was facing the piano properly. For a moment he watched the smoke from the Black Blood infused incense curling its way through the air. He didn't dare to breathe for a moment. Contemplating what had lead him here.

The deepest sense of regret and pain filled him as he thought of Maka. She had truly managed to worm her way under his skin and now she was gone. If he had only forced her to come with him that night on Shibusen's wall she might still be alive. The guilt was eating away at him and his heart was twisting painfully in his chest.

He took a breath, the smoke slipping into his lungs as he inhaled. He set his fingers to the ivory keys of the piano. The sound echoing out into the room. Dark and twisted, like his soul.

He let the madness overtake him.

* * *

**A/N: Don't kill meeee! *cowers* I know this is a terrible way to leave off especially after making you all wait so long! Take comfort that I will be posting the first chapter today as well. This was just a tidbit to get us started and set the mood for whats to come.**

**I really really hope you enjoyed. Please review and let me know your thoughts! Unless your thoughts involve murdering me -.- in which case perhaps its better for me not to know...ehehehe**

**-Song :3**


	2. Chapter 1

**Hello friends! **

**Here is the pretty much immediate continuation and first official Chapter for Sandseas and Flame Filled Skies. Now to be referred short form as SFFS. Anyways. Please enjoy! :3**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SOUL EATER**

* * *

_One_

The stranger crept through the quiet roads of the village under cover of night. Despite the time of day practically guaranteeing him to go without notice, he remained in the shadows and hugged close to buildings where he could vanish upon a moments notice.

It was not a particularly large village and given so it was not hard to seek out his targets home. A blue house with white shutters and a red door. It was set apart from the others, up on a hill overlooking the harbour. A little flower garden in the front and a vegetable garden along the side yard. All the windows were closed and dark. The white, lace-trimmed curtains drawn shut.

They approached the house on silent feet. Stepping around the vegetable garden in the side yard they approached the back of the little house. The back door was secure to be sure, they didn't even bother trying it. It was the window they spotted on the second floor that was their goal.

It was open ever so slightly, just enough to let a breeze through, or perhaps in this case, something else. The brilliant thing about this blue house was that the back of the house was covered in a cross hatched fencing that climbing vines wound their way throughout all the way up the outer wall. It would make their ascent so much easier.

The stranger stepped up, wrapping their leather gloved hands around the fencing. They began pulling themselves up the side. Upon reaching the slightly opened window of the second story they balanced just well enough to pry it open and slide themselves over the sill.

They landed on the hardwood floors with an ever so quiet '_whumpf' _their purposely soft boots muffling their drop. The stranger adjusted the hood of their cloak so they might see better in the darkened house. It didn't matter in truth though, they didn't have any further to go. Their target was there, just a few steps away. This was their room and that was their bed where they slept. Where they were currently sleeping, tucked under the blankets, breathing softly.

Slipping a hand beneath their cloak, the stranger wrapped their fingers around the handle of a dagger. They pulled it out into the open, moving closer to the bedside. They raised the dagger. The metal glinted in the stream of moonlight that filtered in, in-between the curtains fluttering in the draft from the open window.

Their target was here, they had no further to go. They would slit their throat and be gone, nobody would even know they had been here until likely late the following day.

A metallic click shattered the silence of the room.

"Don't move." A soft voice murmured. Hardly louder than a whisper.

Chagrined, the stranger froze, aware of a pistol shoved into the meat of their thigh. The blankets were tugged back revealing the strangers target to be wide awake and apparently waiting for them. She made a small noise of disbelief in the back of her throat as she sat up a little awkwardly, still keeping the pistol trained on the intruder as she went. "Drop it." She commanded, they released their grip on the dagger and it dropped onto the floor by their targets feet.

She gestured for them to back up and they did as she asked. Not really in a position to argue. She swung her long, pale legs over the side of the bed, cocking her head at them. Ashy blonde hair slid over her shoulder as she examined him.

"How did you know I would come?" the stranger asked quietly and in a relatively even voice for someone who had a skilled ex-naval officer aiming to put a bullet in their skull.

"You tried three nights ago. I heard you trying to get in. So I left the window open the last three nights to draw you to me." Her green eyes narrowed. "You aren't the first, you know."

"And I won't be the last." The intruder told her honestly. She nodded.

"I know."

The silence between them stretched out until it could remain as such no more. The intruder was wracking their brains, trying to figure a way out of this where they lived and succeeded in their hired job but none of the possible scenarios played out favourably in their thoughts.

"What now?" the stranger asked calmly.

"You leave." She said quietly. "You head back out that window and down the side of the house and go back to wherever you came from. You don't tell whoever hired you that you failed. You don't tell them you spoke to me. You don't tell them anything. You just leave. And you don't come back."

"Why shouldn't I come back? Try again? And how do you know I won't?" they questioned, reasonably so. She shrugged slightly.

"I don't know. But I can only hope that by me sparing your life you'll be grateful enough to me to do exactly what I've said." She gestured to the window with the guns barrel. A gust of wind ruffled the curtains.

"Now get out." She whispered.

The stranger did as they were told. Returning to the window and climbing out into the night. She followed them to the window, padding barefoot across the floor so she could verify they had climbed out and down again. Upon confirming they weren't clinging to the side of her house anymore she slammed the window shut and locked it. Pulling the wind blown curtains back into place.

Maka turned and moved back to her bed. She climbed in, placing the loaded pistol on her bedside table. She would be able to sleep peacefully for the rest of the night now. She was positive there would be no more attacks tonight.

She hadn't been lying when she'd told the assassin he wasn't the first. He hadn't been. Over the last seven months she had been home she had been attacked on countless different occasions. Sometimes during the day, sometimes at night. For the first few months anytime she was alone someone would strike. The attacks had become less frequent but that didn't mean she wasn't expecting them anymore.

The experience with the attacks allowed her to see most of the attempts before they even happened. She was certain the person pulling the strings behind all the attacks was frustrated. She had thwarted every attempt. The only one that had even come close had been at the beginning. Since then she had be prepared.

Seven months was a long time when you were constantly on edge and fearing for your life.

For a little while, in the beginning anyway, she stopped caring. Upon returning home and attending Grandpa's funeral she had fallen into a spiral of guilt and depression. She had let her despair get the better of her. She remained in bed, with the curtains drawn in the dark for nearly a months time, she only left to relieve herself or eat on sparing occasions.

A part of her had come to blame herself for Grandpa's death. And at the time she could not shake the feeling of being lost. Her position in the Navy had been a big part of her identity she had always liked to think, being severed from that had hit her like a sack of bricks. Most of the people she cared for were scattered to the winds and what she wanted most, to find her mother, was seeming further and further out of reach each passing day.

Two things had pulled her out of her spiralling despair. An attempt on her life…and Grandma.

* * *

_Moonlight cut through the drawn curtains like a knife through butter. Besides it clearly being night time she couldn't even begin to say what time it was, let alone the day. She closed her eyes a moment, willing herself to sleep. That was all she did was sleep. It was the best way to escape her reality, a reality she was having extreme difficulties with facing._

_Alone, she was all alone. Just like every day now. She rolled over in bed, drawing the covers up to her chin. Her stomach rumbled. She had been ignoring the hunger pangs for at least a few hours, not wanting to pull herself out of bed. It rumbled again, she could not ignore it this time. _

_With a heavy sigh she pushed the covers away and rose, padding across the floor to exit the room and head towards the stairs. She would have to go attempt to scrape something together to eat in the kitchen. _

_The house was all shadows and silence. An empty place for her to wallow. Turning the corner into the kitchen she began shuffling through the cupboards in search of a meal. She shivered as she opened the pantry to peer inside, the house had a chill as though someone had left a window open but she knew she hadn't._

_Her back to the window, the pale evening light spilling over her from behind, she noticed the shadow that passed over her too late. _

_The wire snapped tight around her neck, a garrotte. Her gasp escaped her involuntarily, choking the last bit of breath she had. The assassin began to walk backwards, yanking her along with them, she had no choice but to follow. It was that or suffocate more quickly._

_She clawed at the thin wire desperately, trying to loosen it. It was biting into her flesh, pulled tight enough to draw a thin line of blood that beaded along its edge. Realizing she had no chance of pulling the wire loose she focused instead on the attacker wielding it. _

_She backed up into them abruptly, her vision blurring. Despite her feelings and depression for the past month, her will to live surged up tenfold. The assassin was taken off guard by Maka throwing herself at them. As they lost their footing and were momentarily distracted she took the opportunity to slam her heel down on their foot._

_A hiss of pain rewarded her efforts and she threw her elbow back sharply, striking the intruder in the gut. She felt their grip on the garrotte come loose and she fell onto her knees and into a coughing fit as air rushed back into her lungs. Sucking in breaths greedily, she ignored the burning in her chest and the throbbing, dull ache around her neck. _

_Collecting herself, she whirled just in time to see her attacker moving towards her quickly, hands outstretched. She dove underneath their swiping arms, skidding across the floors on her knees to the counter. She snatched up a knife that had been left out and twisted around to meet them head on. _

_The assassin swung, a sharp right hook, but Maka slipped out of the way and with her adrenaline heightening her senses she managed to trip the attacker up. They hit the floor hard and she dropped to her knees beside them. Pinning them against the ground with her elbow on their trachea, she held the knife's point against their chin. _

"_Who sent you?" She snarled, her heart pounding. Her attackers eyes burned with annoyance, a poorly masked fear resided there too. She frowned at their lack of immediate response, pressing on their throat and causing them to cough a little. She watched tears spring up in their ducts involuntarily. _

_They tried to say something, their voice strained and small. Maka lessened the pressure on their throat. "Governor-" they managed. She pressed again in a burst of fury at the name, that was all she needed. She knew why they were targeting her, knew perfectly well it wouldn't end until one of them was dead._

* * *

That fateful attack in her kitchen, late at night had knocked her out of her stupor. She had woken up. Though perhaps not as much as was needed, not right away anyways. At first she had taken things slow, remaining segregated from the community she began moving around the house more. Reading some of the many novels she had stacked on bookshelves that lined the walls of practically every room in her home.

As the week anniversary of the failed assassination attempt approached she discovered Grandma was not prepared to allow Maka to reintroduce herself into society at her own pace. She came knocking on her door to pull her out instead.

Being alone as she had been, she had not told anyone of the attack. Though Grandma had been prepared to shout at her and drag her from the house by her hair if she had to, she found herself instead with her heart in her throat and crooning over the ring of bruising that had formed around Maka's throat. Given it had, had a few days to heal, it was better than it had been.

Maka had allowed Grandma to tend to her wounds, she had done a poor job doing so herself it turned out. So what might have been a more aggressive wake up call, instead became a tender one.

Grandma was the closest thing Maka had to a mother since her own had been stolen from her as a child. That she had allowed her husband to die was eating her up inside, she couldn't even look at her. She felt ashamed that she had locked herself up in her house when the woman who had truly lost someone had persevered and kept on.

* * *

"_He wouldn't have wanted this you know," she told her softly as she finished applying a salve to her bruises. "He'd want you to continue on." Maka hugged her knees, seated on the window seat in her living room. Her hair curtained across her face as she stared at her feet._

"_I know. I just, I feel like its my fault. You should hate me. Everyone should. Everything that happened to Grigori was because of me." The town had been in shambles after the attack, a war between pirate crews rampaging through a small town would do that. Grandma gave her a stern glance, her expression unimpressed. "Now that's enough of that," she said sharply. "You've had enough time to throw yourself a pity party and I'll not sit here and join you in it. He died. Yes. I know that. And there isn't a moment where I don't miss my husband. But I sure as hell don't blame you for it and neither would he." Maka started a little as her curse. _

_She began combing through Maka's tangles a little roughly as she continued to chastise her. "He didn't die for you to mope your life away. You'll do more good leaving this house and helping out in town. We've got plenty of jobs an able-bodied girl like you can do."_

_Maka was quiet, just looking out the window as Grandma continued to comb her matted hair. "This is more then about him passing. Something else is troubling you." She murmured. Her lips parted slightly as she turned to meet her elder's eyes._

"_How did you know?" She smiled knowingly. _

"_I'm older. Therefore wiser." Maka rolled her eyes a little and chuckled. Grandma swatted her playfully. _

"_I-I know where my Mother is." She whispered into the silence that fell around them. She heard the soft intake of breath at her words, she continued speaking. "Well, I know where to begin looking I suppose would be a more truthful statement. Its so far though. And, the navy refused to help. Now that I'm not longer with the Navy I can't help but feel maybe I made the wrong choice by resigning. Perhaps I should have stayed and continued to press them to go help her. What if-"_

"_What if's will haunt you if you let them. You've got to stop dwelling on the decisions you made in the past. They've happened, its too late to look back."_

"_But I don't feel like I can move forward…I want to go and help her. Save her. But I don't feel like I have the tools. I'm scared to do it alone. What if I don't find her? What if I do and its already too late?" _

"_A ship in the harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are for."_

* * *

It was like coming to life again. She left the house, became a useful member of the community once more.

She helped rebuild houses and ships, parts of the docks that were destroyed when the '_Vajra' _was sunk.

She looked after the children, told stories on the beach like Grandpa used to.

She remembered how to fish. Remembered how it felt to sail in something humbler than a pirate ship or a naval vessel. Remembered her love of it.

When the months of repairs were finished she began going out on the fishing boats. Spending the day out on the water and making use of her skills, then coming home at night to eat and spend time with the townsfolk.

For a little while she forgot. Let herself relax and just be. She was happy. Even the frequent attempts on her life were not enough to discourage her. It was a healing time, allowing her to overcome the last dramatic, emotional whirlwind of a year she had been through.

It couldn't last though. There were things she needed to do and she would quickly realize she was done putting them off.

* * *

The morning sun was bright, winking up over the water as it rose along the horizon in a warm glow that glittered across the waves and made everything feel dreamlike and hazy. The docks were bustling despite the early hour. The ships scheduled to dock were arriving with supplies to trade and sell, prepared to buy as much of the little towns goods as possible.

Maka strode along the docks in that early morning light. She was heading in the direction of the '_Little Dipper_' a fishing boat she had been working on the last couple of weeks. They would shove off in an hour or so and she would be out there until dusk. The first hour would be dedicated to selling any of fish and other seafood they had in stock.

"Where are you headed this hour Miss Maka?" the Captain of the '_Daisy-Lee'_ bellowed out as she past. He was a beefy, jolly man. She shielded her eyes so she might get a proper look at him as she answered. He was perched up on the lip of his fishing boat.

"To the Little Dipper, we're scheduled to leave in an hour."

"When are you going to leave that bloody tub and come ride on the Daisy, we'd love to have you!" She chuckled bashfully in response.

"Aw, you're gonna make me blush," she laughed. "Maybe I'll take some time away from the Dipper in a week or so and sail with you awhile." He boomed out a laugh of approval and Maka continued on her way.

She had been boat hopping the last few weeks. Offering her assistance and skills to different fishing crews about the docks. She'd been enjoying her work on the '_Little Dipper_' but perhaps it was time to move on.

A fish shot out in front of her, two workers on either side of the dock were tossing them to one another and stacking them in a crate. She ducked under the next one as it arced past and side-stepped a couple of wharf rats that went running by shouting excitedly about one of the foreign ships that had weighed anchor in the harbour earlier that morning.

She couldn't help but look out at the water, eyes searching for the ship the two little boys had talked about. It wasn't difficult to spot, strange looking sails set it immediately apart from all the others. The sails were separated into panels, fanned out with a material Maka had never seen used before. It didn't look like the cloth they used for sails usually.

Colorful scraps of cloth were strung out every which way, she could just make out ink markings across each of them as they flapped in the wind. She gazed at the ship curiously, taking in its unusual appearance. It was odd that it had stopped in Grigori of all places. It was far from home. The ocean breeze blew past her, carrying just a hint of the scent of smoke she recognized absently.

"F-fire!" A voice cried. Maka's eyes snapped away from the foreign vessel to where the scent of smoke had been coming from. There was, in fact, a fire. A small one had lit itself in the air it seemed. Maka's heart leapt as the flame grew for a moment then shrunk away and vanished. The smoke cleared and a rolled up piece of parchment hit the dock softly at her feet.

Everyone murmured amongst themselves around her, upon seeing the fire was no more most of them went back to work, no longer interested. Maka felt as if the world around her was frozen. She stared down at the slightly singed piece of parchment at her feet. She only knew one person who would send her a fire letter and it was beyond her as to what they might have to say that was so urgent.

She crouched in front of it. A case of tunnel vision overcoming her, the only thing she could see was the parchment. She reached for it with trembling hands, a part of her fearing what was inside it. Why she would be afraid she couldn't even say.

The rest of the dock had stopped paying attention to her right around the time she crouched for the little paper. She unravelled it and began to read the looping writing of her friend from the Farlands.

_Little Spark_

_I hope I find you well with this letter, also I hope it has not startled you or anyone with you too severely. I could not wait for normal methods to send you this though. The information I have for you is too important to wait. _

_I believe I know where to find the thing you desire most. _

_If you are still seeking it, which I would imagine you are, send a response back through the Captain of the '_Fleet Fox'_ they know how to get word to me most efficiently. If I have calculated the arrival of this letter correctly, she will be docked in your harbour at this very moment. I will be waiting for you in Lythe. _

_Come quickly,_

_Iago Vidal Baldomero the Fourth_

Her heart was beating loudly in her ears. The letter was not entirely clear. It didn't indicate any real specifics besides which ship she should approach with her response and where Iago currently resided. It didn't matter though, she knew what he meant. What he had found.

Her mother. He had found her mother. She had to be alive or Iago would not have bothered to ask her to sail halfway across the world to meet him. The pounding of her heart drowned everything out.

She turned suddenly, catching a little boy's shoulder as he went darting past. One of the wharf rats from earlier.

"That ship," she asked, gesturing to the foreign vessel. "What is it called?" The boys eyes grew wide, his grin and overall expression thrilled at just the mention of the ship.

"That's the '_Fleet Fox'_, Miss Albarn! it's a merchant vessel from the Farlands they say!" She cocked her head at it.

"How long is it here for?" she asked, not looking at the boy this time as she spoke.

"The Captain said she would be docking for a week." He told her excitedly as he gave her a little tip of his hat and he ran off into the growing crowds that shuffled around the docks.

So she had a week to decide her next move. There was little to decide really, she would go. She had to. If Iago had found her mother she could not live with knowing that she'd had a chance to save her and turned it down. The only things to think about would be how best to say her goodbyes to her little surrogate family that was the townsfolk of Grigori. For when she left on this journey it would be a very long time before she came back.

* * *

**A/N: Yaaaayy! Another update. I will begin working on Chapter Two forthwith! I hope you are enjoying so far and that it had met your expectations!**

**Thank you for reading/following/favourite-ing :P / and of course, reviewing. As always, it means the world to me.**

**The quote Grandma makes, 'A Ship in the Harbor is safe, but that's not what ships are for' belongs to John. A. Shedd. Not myself. I just thought it fit very well with the whole situation. **

**-Song :3**


	3. Chapter 2

**BAM!**

**I still exist! Its a miracle! **

**This...is a long time coming. I don't have any valid excuse. Besides bouts of writers block, the calamity of busy-ness that is summer, and my suddenly having more of a life than I ever have. **

**I forced myself to make time where I could. Recently more than usual. The ever delightful winter of Canada has set upon me and so I am thinking I should have time to update more regularly. This story will be my focus. I just have so many ideas that have been fermenting in my head to a point of deliciousness I have to share. **

**I took a break from playing Assassin's Creed to finish this and post it...that's quite a feat...**

**Anyways! Please enjoy!**

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN SOUL EATER**

* * *

_Two_

Flames leapt around her. Sweat dripped from her brow and pooled along the small of her back. It was the countless nightmares she'd had brought to life. Glittering, crimson, all around, trapping her. The smoke thick and black, choking her. She struggled to keep her footing as the boat lurched suddenly.

A lifeless body lay at her feet, this piece of her current atmosphere that wasn't the same as her panic filled dreams. She had shot the man on the floor, been given no other choice. It was him or her and she had chosen herself. Truthfully, she had been furious with his appearance. A hired assassin just _had _to show up while she was at sea in a storm.

He had infiltrated the crew months ago, knowing she helped the crew of the '_Little Dipper'_ often and then he had waited, biding his time for the right moment to strike. Pity for him he had picked the wrong one.

Stepping over the prone form, she rushed for the cabin door. The lock had melted, the handle hot to the touch. She pounded on its wooden frame desperately, the sounds of the remaining crew just outside. They shouted about the fire, shouted for Maka and the other. The door burst into a wall of flame, impassable.

Maka wanted to shout in frustration. She had come out here to _fake _her death, not actually get herself killed. She cursed under her breath as she turned away from the door which at this point seemed to surely be fruitless. She examined the little cabin for another way out.

An axe caught her eye, the flames having not quite reached it yet. She removed it from its hook on the wall and managed her way across the cabin to the back. With all her strength she hauled back and slammed the axe into a part of the floor that was blackened and weak from the flame. The boat would sink, she was aware of this, but she would take her chances with the sea rather than be burned alive.

She could only hope the other members of the crew had realized saving them was hopeless and had abandoned ship. The floorboards warped and cracked as she hacked at them, it did not take long before water began to flood inside. She only needed an opening large enough to fit her shoulders through.

A geyser of water shot upward into the air, soaking her in water so cold in contrast to the burning room she couldn't be sure if she was grateful or not.

It lessened, sinking down until it was only bubbling up into the room in a steady stream. She tossed the axe aside and sat down next to the hole with her feet dangling in the water. She glanced back at the burning door, the lifeless body that was just now catching fire too.

This moment, it was the start of something. They wouldn't find her body, the village would mourn. After the deaths they had already suffered, guilt ate away at her heart for putting them through it. This was the only way she would be able to travel to the Farlands without having to glance back over her shoulder every step of the way.

Her eyes fluttered closed for a moment and she filled her lungs with air before she slipped down into the hole in the floor, beneath the water.

It was murky and dark there, her eyes opened again once she was entirely submerged. Her heart pounded as flashes of nightmares and memories passed filled her vision. The last time she had escaped a burning ship she had been met by a furious embrace from Soul. Her heart clenched uncomfortably at the thought of him. She tried to avoid thinking about him.

The shadow of the ships bottom hovered above her as she made her escape, kicking strongly out away from the fishing vessels base.

Once she was free of the boats shadow she allowed herself to break the surface, gasping for air The churning water had a greenish haze to it, the waves raising up higher than her head. She struggled to remain above water at a place where she could breathe freely. The other boats were nearby, she could feel the pull in the water as the ship she had been on board began to sink.

With another deep breath she powered her way away from the sinking vessel. She was sorely tempted to swim towards the other fishing boats but knew it would defeat the purpose of her being out there. Instead she steeled her will and moved forward.

* * *

The storm subsided as she swam, her limbs were sore from fighting against the waves but she reached her destination all the same. She had not realized what she was getting herself into when she had planned this. Though to be fair she had not anticipated the escape from the burning cabin.

The overwhelming side of the foreign ship loomed before her now out of the mist. With the little breath she had left she called out. "Hey!" It was perhaps not the most eloquent thing to say but she needed to draw their attention. She appreciated the craftsmanship as she tread water beside it waiting. It took only a moment before she saw the glow of a lantern approach the side.

At first, a little girl appeared. Her appearance a shock. Her hair was dark as far as Maka could tell, its specific color impossible to determine at such at distance in the dark. It was cut short with blunt bangs, the wind ruffled it and she popped her head back upon spotting Maka.

Moments later, a ladder was lowered. She sighed heavily and dragged herself to the ladder. Her muscles screamed in protest but she made the climb anyways.

Tumbling onto the deck, a dripping and exhausted Maka was greeted by several people. Most of which she would call strangers, a few were not entire strangers though she had only met them a few days ago so they could hardly be called friends.

The Captain was a lean, hard muscled man, with no hair on his head but plenty everywhere else. He tugged on his thick white beard as he observed her. Despite his size, he was likely just under seven feet, he didn't feel menacing. He crouched beside her with a smirk. "When you said you would be boarding by…unconventional means, I must say I didn't expect this."

She shrugged meekly, knowing this entrance was unusual.

"Did you swim here?" the little girl asked. Maka turned to her, able to get a proper look at her appearance now. She was a tiny thing and probably no older than seven judging by her size. Her hair was clearly a lighter brown and a cut in blunt chops. Her eyes were what startled Maka most. Red. Another pair of red eyes flashed across the backs of her eyelids as she blinked. She had only known one other person with eyes like that.

After the moment of surprise passed she realized the shade wasn't quite the same, it was a little off. The girls eyes were a little more pink-tinged.

Coming out of her stupor she nodded. "Pretty much." The girl threw her hands up suddenly.

"That's crazy! Its been all stormy, you could've drowned! You must be the best swimmer!" Maka's mouth quirked in a small smile at her excitement.

"I've been swimming since I was very little." The Captain offered her a hand up, she took it with a grateful smile.

"Welcome aboard the '_Fleet Fox_', Miss," he clapped her on the shoulder and then turned away. She tried to get a look at the other people who had gathered around as she wrung out her hair.

The other faces seemed to be losing interest in her quickly, most of them dispersed when the Captain began shouting orders. The only ones to remain were the little girl and another, a man who she now noticed stood fairly close to the child. His hair was long and fell in sheets of sandy blonde around his face, some of the strands tucked behind his ear. He was observing her with an impassive expression.

A tug on Maka's damp trouser leg brought her gaze down to where the girl had moved up close beside her. "We'll show you were we sleep. We're just passengers too." Her tiny hand gripped Maka's as she started off across the deck, pulling the elder girl along.

Maka's mouth hung open a moment, preparing to tell the girl she would be helping the crew sail not just sit around as a passenger the whole time but then the boat began moving along. Taking her away from the little fishing village and Maka felt her stomach twist, wishing she could have left on a more positive note.

* * *

"_I need you to help me fake my death."_

_Grandma started, looking up from her sewing with an expression of shock. She and Maka had been having a peaceful evening, she had come over for dinner after she had finished on the docks. Mind, she had noticed Maka's behaviour as being a little bit…off? The girl had been twitchy as all hell and would occasionally sigh or bite her lip and look pensive. Not to mention the paper she kept folding and unfolding over and over. _

"_Why?" she asked finally, deciding it would be best to get right to the point. She gave her a torn, wistful sort of look. _

"_Its…complicated." She tried. Grandma shook her head. _

"_I don't think so. You will explain to me why or you can count me out of your scheme." _

_With a heavy sigh she detailed how she had received the letter from Iago and then proceeded to explain why she had come to the conclusion she needed to fake her own death. _

_The Governor had been consistently sending assassins after her for seven months now and she did not doubt that he would continue to do so even when she embarked on a journey halfway across the world. And being on a boat with a bunch of strangers for possibly multiple months created plenty opportunity for an assassin to strike._

_She didn't want to be searching for her mother while constantly looking over her shoulder for hidden blades prepared to strike. If she could lead everyone to believe she was dead, well, that would give her the peace she needed to cross oceans and search a foreign land for her mother with worry. _

_Upon completing her explanation, Grandma did not answer immediately. She was quiet. Maka was almost afraid to look at her for a moment. She hadn't sound impressed during the first initial plea for help. _

_The older woman sighed heavily, a resigned sort of sound that made her spirits lift. She glanced up to meet her elder's eyes. The woman's expression was sad but clearly decided, she was going to help her despite not truly liking the idea._

"_How do you want this to be done?" Maka's face split into a grin and she leapt forward to throw her arms around Grandma and hug her tightly. _

"_Thank you!" she cried happily. With an eager expression she sat back across from her again. She swallowed, recomposing herself. "It'll have to seem like an accident…but one where things don't seem quite right, so it might seem like one of the assassins succeeded. To those who know there are assassins involved anyways."_

_Grandma nodded, setting her sewing aside. "Well, we'd best get to work. Its going to be a long night."_

* * *

Maka jerked awake suddenly. The cabin was black as pitch. Only the soft sounds of people sleeping nearby alerted her to the presence of others. She swung herself out of the cot quietly then fumbled around for her boots in the dark. She didn't try to light the nearby lantern, after all she didn't want to wake everyone.

Once she had accomplished lacing up her boots and swinging her cloak around her shoulders, she began to feel her way tentatively in the direction of the steps that lead up to the hatchway.

Pushing the door open brought cold and wind. She cursed under her breath, scampering out and closing the hatch as quickly and quietly as she could manage. She could only hope she hadn't woken anyone. A part of her regretted coming out at all. The weather was not pleasant.

It had been as such for three days. It was as though the storm Maka thought she'd left behind in Grigori were following them. They always remained right on the edge though, not stormy enough to be dangerous but just stormy enough to be incredibly unpleasant. The wind was cold and sharp and it was constantly sprinkling or misting to some extent so one could never be quite dry enough to be comfortable. She missed the sun.

She had been thankful for the preplanning her and Grandma had done as all of her things had been awaiting her on board, including a thick, fur-lined cloak. One she never would have thought to pack going where she was, though Grandma had been wise enough to have the foresight to place amongst her things.

Bowing her head against the wind and misty rain, she tugged the hood around her tighter. It appeared to be early in the morning. The crew set to man the ship overnight huddled in their own cloaks wherever they could escape the rain.

She took a moment, contemplating going back inside when she caught sight of the mysterious bodyguard she had met three nights ago.

As the little one had guided her on a tour of the ship the first night she had discovered the girls name was Angela and that the man who was her shadow was called Mifune. Angela was not as young as she had initially thought, just small for her age. The girl was actually approaching ten. She had grinned and told Maka that Mifune sometimes told her she would never grow again.

Mifune had said nothing to this, only quirked his lip when Maka met his gaze and then turned away. From what she had gathered he was the girls guardian. He and the girl had been onboard the '_Fleet Fox_' for a few months already. They had, for reasons they weren't prepared to share, to leave their home quite suddenly. Instead of finding somewhere else to settle they had been boat hopping, buying passage on a variety of merchant and passenger vessels over time.

Maka was about to reach him when she heard a horn bellow, the overnight crew were being sent off to sleep. A group of crew members stampeded past her to get out of the rain, when they finally were gone from her line of sight she realized Mifune had gone too.

Behind her the morning crew were emerging out onto the deck with sour expressions. Clearly the weather wasn't what they had been hoping for.

"Miss Maka!" the Captain's growling voice called out for her attention. She turned to face him, he was making his way towards her bundled in several cloaks which only added to his already substantial size.

"Yes, sir?"

"Iago has sent me a letter, asking if I had a response for him in regards to you. I let him know you were on board with me and in good hands." She smiled up at him, squinting against the rain.

"Thank you." She huddled further into her cloak against the wind. "What is the passage like?"

"It can be rough, we have to cross the straits after all."

The straits. Maka had heard plenty of the straits. A treacherous pass that separated the Farlands from the rest of the world. It was part of why it was such a different place and why magic among other things wasn't abolished. It was said if you came across good weather in the straits it was because you were in the eye of a storm. Rumours told that the storms were set by magic intentionally to keep it apart.

Her expression must have told her thoughts clearly as the Captain patted her shoulder. "Don't worry so much. I've crossed the strait's a hundred times! I haven't lost a single crew member yet!"

That only made her feel worse though. After all, what was the likelihood of a hundred and one? Nobody could be that lucky.

* * *

**Dun dun duuunnnn. **

**I feel like this Chapter could be viewed as a bit of a let down after the long wait. I'm sorry if it is. D: **

**I will do what I can to get the next one up soon. **

**I know I don't deserve reviews after making you all wait so long but I appreciate them all the same if you choose to gift me with them! **

**Do not lose hope! I am always here. I cannot leave a story unfinished. It will be continued! **

**-Song **


End file.
